My sister had a little dog for about ten or 12 years. Not small like a chihuahua, but just a small dog. She was the sweetest most, affectionate dog. I really liked her. I’ll call her Lucy ( not her real name) We were so happy to see each other any time I went over to my sisters apartment.
I lived by myself in a studio for about six years and my sister used to travel and go on vacations and she would bring Lucy over my studio for me to take care of while she was gone. I would feed and walk her and play with her and pet her. And she even got along OK with my cat!
That happened quite a few times.
Well, just about two years ago Lucy was laying on my sisters bed and she gave a strange yelp. My sister came in and saw she wasn’t moving and rushed her to the vet hospital but poor Lucy had suffered the equivalent of a heart attack and died.
We were all shocked and saddened. Like I said, my sister had her twelve years and she was the sweetest soul. She’s been gone two years now and we still have fond memories of her. My family loved her.
About a month after she died me and my sister were talking about her and my sister told me, “Besides me, you were her favorite person.” That really caught me by surprise. I always gave Lucy a lot of attention I guess and truly always liked having her around. It made me feel good to hear my sister say that but I wish she had told me when Lucy was alive so I could have appreciated her more. I still miss her, she was a cute, loving little dog who should have lived several more years.
